Dear Rosaria

Dear Rosaria,

You kindly asked about my life here in Italy. It embarrassed me and gave me the push I needed. It has been a while since I wrote an update but it's not as simple a question as it once was which is perhaps why I haven't. My first years here were full of newness- new country, new language, new friends, new culture so different from what I was familiar with. My gypsy soul loved it all. Whatever the challenges, surmounting them was heady stuff. My world became so much bigger and I became a citizen of that world. Gladly. You know that feeling you get when you're in the right place at the right time with the right person? I felt like that. For the first four and a half years. And then I didn't.

It's hard to pinpoint the precise time or reason. Like so many things it started as a small thought in the back of my mind, barely there, and me, barely aware. But it grew. Became a full grown idea and then crystalized as a longing for home. I've been a wanderer, a seeker, for years now and I feel rich and full from all I've seen and done...but I'm not home. Not among my tribe. Not where I want to be. I know you love my stories of Italy and the savoring of life here that I've shared. But I want to go home and plant my roots there, deep in the soil of my home's earth. I must do this.

I told some others that I want to be closer to my family and that's certainly true. As I get older, (68 in two months! Can you believe that?) time with them is more and more precious. But since you've asked (twice) what's going on with me, I want to let you know that this move is really about me and the yearning I feel. Seems like it's time for me to stay still, listen deeply and let all these experiences become part of the warp and woof of who I am.

I'd like it to be part of a neighborhood as diverse as my family has become so they feel welcomed and mirrored. I look forward to being part of a running group that includes older women, a writing group that welcomes poets and a volunteer group responsive to the needs of our neighborhood. You know me, I'm still the girl with a protective arm around her brother and her hands on her hips ready to fight for what's right.

So, thanks for asking again. I needed that nudge to acknowledge what's true for me just now. I sense the care behind your question. I appreciate it, and you. You're a good friend. I'm grateful.

Love,
Mary

Gay Reiser Cannon at dVerse Poets Pub in Form for All wrote about hearth, home and common speech. She asked us to bring our writing back home and keep the vocabulary personal. Mine's not a poem but it's all about home and was sparked by a friend's urging.